


White Lighter

by snipess



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Cigarette Smoking, College AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, alcohol mention, crying and kissing, other characters mentioned very briefly, they are gay adventurous disasters, vanitas uses they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 12:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20064211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snipess/pseuds/snipess
Summary: Neither of them ever liked parties anyway.





	White Lighter

**Author's Note:**

> Some angsty, dreamy, college VanVen. Enjoy. 
> 
> TW: cigarette smoking, alcohol, heights

_White Lighter by snipess _  
[(listen)](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6wlBd6zD5U55HoHPnJHqx4?si=vn6uBF2qRHKRIeq63u9ADw)

* * *

“I need a cig.” 

“Did you say something?” Lea slurred, yanking his lips off of Isa’s neck long enough to eye Vanitas lazily. The red-head was already half out of his hoodie, hair tangled and sweaty, and cheeks flushed pink.

“I said_ I need a cig _,” Vanitas repeated, voice dripping with its usual venom. Lea only nodded in response, giggling to himself before pushing Isa up against the refrigerator, hands grasping for the other man sloppily. “Fuck, get a room,” Vanitas mumbled, leaving the kitchen with their head down, focusing on the floor as they weaved their way through sweaty bodies, all shouting and dancing and smelling. 

Vanitas felt themselves growing weary even before they reached the back exit. Grimy college parties had always had a knack for wearing them down into a limp, shaky shell of the person they once were—and tonight was no exception. Vanitas meandered through the maze-like frathouse for what felt like an eternity, hearing their name called by both strangers and people they wished were strangers, narrowly avoiding human interaction by throwing up the hood of their sweater and waving their hand dismissively. The frathouse—seemingly holding itself together by sheer willpower—shook with intense electronica and smelled like sex and fireball. This was the last time they let Lea talk them into anything. 

Vanitas finally erupted into the backyard, gasping for air and drinking up the crisp fall night. Only a few outcasts stood outside in the moon’s wash of light, sharing joints and bottles and stories. Mostly, however, it was sort of quiet, spare the muffled music and shouts seeping their way through second-floor windows. Vanitas sighed in relief, grateful for the calm, and pulled a long cigarette from its cartoon, resting it between their lips before fishing through their pocket for a lighter. Their fingers played with loose fabric for a moment before they cursed to themselves softly, looking at the ground with wide, desperate eyes. “Come on, Vani,” they mumbled. “Where’d you put the damn thing?”

They double-checked their pockets and kicked at the crumbling ground beneath their boots, teeth tightening around the butt of the cigarette. Behind them, the back door slid open, a pulse of party life spilling outwards before being closed up again, a soft-faced blonde standing in its place. He watched Vanitas intently, cocking his head. “Did you lose something?”

“Huh?” Vanitas’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion before they turned around, nearly toe-to-toe with the blonde. They backed up hurriedly, frowning. “What’s it to you?” 

  
The blonde shrunk into their turtleneck, only for a moment, and then stood straight and eyed Vanitas suspiciously. “Nothin’,” he replied, voice kinder than he probably intended. “I was just asking.”

Vanitas narrowed their eyes, sizing him up equally. The blonde was definitely smaller but quite a bit leaner, a notable feistiness murmuring just beneath his blue-green eyes and pale skin. He wore all black, looking comfortable in his turtleneck sweater despite its largeness. It barely clung to his narrow shoulders. Vanitas took a step back, just a bit too cautious for their own good, and then offered a meek look of vague acceptance. “You got a light?” 

The boy looked confused for a moment before realization washed over his face, eyes settling on the cigarette hanging loosely from Vanitas’s lips. Nodding, he reached into his pocket, blowing lint off of a translucent white lighter. In his outstretched palm, it looked almost lonely, scraped on the end with a name scrawled on it in faded black marker: _ Ventus _. 

Vanitas stared at it for a moment before snatching it quickly, fumbling with the spark wheel as they lit the cigarette’s end, mouth wet with anticipation. Ventus gawked, hair getting caught up in the night’s soft breeze like blades of grass. Vanitas watched as his eyes followed their every move until finally, the cigarette burned satisfactorily. They held the lighter out back to its owner, face scowling as murky, twin clouds spilled from their nostrils. “Take a picture,” they snapped. “It’ll last longer.” 

Ventus took the lighter back timidly, looking away quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to _ stare _, I was just—”

“Well, you did,” Vanitas cut him off with dark vitriol. “_ Ventus _.” The name on the lighter tripped and fell from Vanitas’s lips like an accident, settling between the two of them awkwardly. 

Ventus looked down and shifted his feet uncomfortably, pocketing the lighter. “Call me Ven,” he said, just loud enough for Vanitas to hear. Vanitas looked at him incredulously before taking another drag. They hadn’t expected the conversation to go on any further. In fact, they had expected it to stop at the lighter exchange. Vanitas had expected the two of them to just share a lazy nod before both going on their merry way; Vanitas cowering in their own smog, Ventus returning to their role as a blonde stranger. But Ventus stayed, eyes mostly cast to the sky. He still snuck a few quick, shy looks at Vanitas. 

Vanitas snarled, dropping the finished cigarette into the dirt and twisting their boot over it purposefully. “Seriously, what’s your deal?” 

Ventus’s mouth was ajar for a few stumbling moments. “Uh,” he started, “do you have a brother?” 

Vanitas sighed, pulling another cigarette slowly from their pack. “Maybe,” they replied, the edge on their voice retreating but not yet dismissed. “You ask a lot of questions.” 

“Sora, right?” Ventus kept going. He took a step forward, crossing the threshold into Vanitas’s space seemingly without a care. “He’s in my world literature class… I saw you earlier tonight and just thought, _ gee _, you two look a lot alike,” he said, voice quiet and warm. His eyes met Vanitas’s for a moment before they darted away. “Not quite the same, though.”

Vanitas eyed their unlit cigarette. “So you’re just here to interrogate me about my brother,” they deadpanned, “or are you going to keep lighting me up?”

Ventus hummed in confusion before seeing the cigarette, chuckling to himself nervously before going to reach into his pocket again. He didn’t quite make it, however, before a siren rang through the night and a flash of red and blue lights swirled in the distance, pulling up in front of the house. In mere seconds, the party was dizzying into chaos, drunk teenagers and college students stumbling out of whatever exit they could most quickly get themselves to. The elusive music source had silenced, only screaming and laughter filling the fragile air. Somewhere unseen, a beer bottle smashed. Vanitas cursed as a body pushed past them, knocking the cigarette from their fingers and stomping it to death into the dirt. 

“The fucking cops?” They shouted, to no one in particular. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nervously, their amber eyes scanned the rowdy crowd for a familiar face—Lea, Isa, Riku, _ anybody _—but it was all in vain. Every face that whizzed by was a panicked blur. Vanitas stood there in defeat, shoulders sagging over themselves. Suddenly, a warmth gripped their thin wrist, tugging them into the crowd and weaving through moist bodies. Before they could even realize what was happening, Vanitas let themselves be pulled along, feeling hardly coherent as the sirens faded into the distance. 

Eventually, Vanitas’s feet halted and their mind settled, eyes adjusting to the world around them, realizing they were somehow far down the road, with the party house barely in sight now. Only a swirling, distant glimmer of authoritative lights signaled its existence. Vanitas caught their breath before becoming hyper-aware of the warmth wrapped around their wrist. Beside them, panting and coughing, Ventus held on to Vanitas and kneeled over the pavement, laughing quietly to himself. Vanitas tugged their wrist away quickly. “My hero,” they grumbled, trying to ignore the shaky nerves that scurried like bugs beneath their skin. 

“You weren’t even moving!” Ventus exclaimed, standing up straight and pulling up the sleeves of his sweater. “You’d only be in my way if I didn’t bring you with me.” There was a tease in his voice that Vanitas only sort of recognized as kindness. “Plus,” he turned to Vanitas and offered a smile. “I can light that cigarette now.” 

Vanitas sighed and let their shoulders relax, settling down on to the curb before stretching their legs into the road. Without asking, the blonde descended comfortably beside them and dropped the lighter between their thighs. He had pulled his sweater sleeves back down to cover his hands, wrapping his arms cozily around his upright knees. He rested his chin on his kneecaps, sighing as he glanced at the sky. Vanitas watched him curiously, before grabbing the lighter. “Well. Thanks, I guess,” they tried. 

Ventus simply nodded. 

Vanitas lit their second cigarette, cupping their palm around the lighter as the wind threatened to put it out. Finally, they succeeded, inhaling with their eyes closed. They didn’t know why, but they kept the lighter tight in their hand. It was warm; not like a fire, but like a blanket. “I’m Vanitas,” they finally said. 

“I know,” Ventus replied, eyes shifting towards them sleepily. “Like I said, I know Sora. He’s mentioned you before. A lot, actually.” He stopped as if there was more to say and then cleared his throat. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

Vanitas let their hand fall lazily beside them, cigarette still burning between their fingers. “You two close?” Vanitas couldn’t keep up with their twin’s life. They could barely remember the last meaningful conversation they had shared. Their relationship had stalled sometime after middle school when Vanitas started dyeing their hair and piercing their own ears in the backseat of their shared, used car. There had always been something tiresome and troubling about being compared to their twin, so troubling indeed that when Sora had sheepishly admitted to enrolling at the same university as Vanitas, he wore shin guards to the dinner table for a week to avoid his furious twin’s sturdy kicks. Vanitas could have killed him. Could have, of course—but they never actually _ would _. 

Ventus shrugged. “I wouldn’t say _ close _. We worked on a few projects together. I just like the fact he always does the public speaking bits,” he confessed with a shudder. “I melt in front of crowds.” 

“And yet you came to a frat party,” Vanitas said. 

Ventus chuckled nervously, rubbing his neck. “Against my own will, I promise.”

Vanitas almost smiled in agreement. “I understand.” They looked down sadly at their cigarette, which had managed to burn itself out. “I’ve never really been one for crowds, either.”

“Oh, you had me fooled,” Ventus said sarcastically. “Hiding away at a frat party in the backyard with a cigarette. I mean, how cliché can you get?” He leaned back until he was lying completely on the pavement, arms behind his head like a boney pillow. “It’s bad for you, you know.” 

Vanitas didn’t look at him. “What’s that?” 

“Smoking,” he clarified. “It’s so bad for you.” 

Vanitas laughed to themselves. “You think I don’t know that? It helps me calm my nerves,” they said. They reached for their box but stopped just short, feeling blue eyes pierce into their shoulders. They sighed. 

“What are you so nervous about?”

Vanitas finally turned to look at him. The blonde was sitting up now, almost too close for comfort. He was looking at Vanitas with these _ eyes _ —these big, round inquisitive eyes and a soft smile, cherry lips all muted in the moonlight. Vanitas dismayed as their cheeks grew warm and chest tightened. _ Well _ , they thought. _ I think you make me nervous _. 

Vanitas shook their head and turned away, embarrassed. It wasn’t like them to get so gooey so quickly, but they couldn’t shake the way the blonde had held on to his wrist so tightly, so ripe with protection. The way he looked at them. Like he really wanted to listen, like he really wanted to care. 

“Uh,” Vanitas finally started, dumbly. “I just am. Nervous, I mean.” They lit another cigarette in order to break eye contact. They _ were _ nervous. They could feel it in their bones and behind their face, all their anxiety manifesting into a dull pain. 

Ventus nodded and then the two sat in an uncomfortable quiet. In the distance, the party was still getting busted. But it was just the usual, uninteresting chaos that always happened. Vanitas has become numb to parties and alcohol and hazy hookups. There was something scary and new about sitting on the curb with a near stranger. A stranger with big kind eyes, a stranger who was nudging their arm gently.

“Vanitas?” Ventus asked. “Do you maybe wanna go for a walk?” His voice was bright, hopeful. “It might be awhile before it’s safe to start heading back that way.” He pointed across Vanitas to the crumbling party in the distance. 

“We just ran,” Vanitas complained, but it was mostly their tired smoker lungs talking. Truthfully, they yearned to walk and keep walking, until they couldn’t see the house or the police or the people.

“I guess you’re right,” Ventus sounded disappointed. He rubbed his hands on his jeans and looked all around, anywhere but at Vanitas. It was nearly crippling, the strangeness between them. Two people just barely connected; loosely strung together by a white lighter and a moment of chaos. There was something keeping them there, though, sitting on the curb in a night that was only getting darker and colder. 

Vanitas stood up, long legs extending impressively. They had always managed to score a few inches over Sora if they scored anything. They towered over nearly everyone. It seemed that Ventus was no exception. Vanitas held out a hand to him, split on whether or not they really wanted him to take it. “But sure. Let’s take a walk.” 

Ventus grinned and then grabbed Vanitas’s hand. They both ignored the obscene amount of sweat between their palms, and Vanitas tugged the smaller man up, breath caught somewhere between their pounding heart and dry throat. Ventus stumbled to his feet and smiled, hand lingering on Vanitas’s for just a moment too long. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Vanitas thought he may have been blushing. 

“Where to?” Vanitas breathed, finally. 

“I know this neighborhood,” Ventus said matter-of-factly. “Follow me.” And with that, he grabbed Vanitas’s arm once more, pulling them along down the street. For a quick moment, they were beneath a flickering streetlight, and Vanitas caught sight of that blush they’d been wondering about. It was light and pink, dusted over a smattering of freckles. They were soon in the dark again.

Ventus’s hand stayed tight around Vanitas’s wrist, flush against their bunched up hoodie sleeve. Gently, one of his fingers rubbed against the top of Vanitas’s hand; a silent request for access. Vanitas sucked in a thin, shaky breath before sliding their palm up to meet Ventus’s expectant hand. Wordlessly, they clasped together, and the two continued onwards without looking at each other. 

They walked in the quiet night for a while. They had left behind the noise of the party seemingly hours ago, though Vanitas was sure it couldn’t have been that late. Vanitas, however, couldn’t really be sure of that much at all. Every now and then they cast their eyes towards their held hand and felt the world around them warp. In their pocket, they could feel Ventus’s lighter shiver and shake with each step. It felt so much heavier than it had before. 

“We’re almost there,” Ventus finally said, before turning abruptly. Suddenly, the walls around them were tight and the night even blacker than before. They were in an alleyway, too dark and forbidding for their comfort. Vanitas stopped in their tracks, Ventus stumbling to hold as their hands refused to move any further. He didn’t let go, only looked back at Vanitas and squinted. “What’s wrong?”

Vanitas grimaced. How had they even ended up here? With _ him _? The night was beginning to seem too long. “Nothing, I guess, it’s just…” They trailed off. “Where are we going? We’ve been walking for fucking ages. And I should be getting back to school. You, too. I have to check on Lea and I’m just not fucking cool with being dragged around suburbia all night, and I… I…” They pulled their hand away, looking behind them. The street they had turned from still sat there, drenched in warm, street lamp light.

Ventus made a small, desperate noise of worry, before fumbling in his pocket. Quickly, he turned the flashlight on his phone, holding it upwards. His face suddenly lit up, as kind as it had been all night. “Hey, it’s okay. I promise,” he cooed. “It’s just through this way. I just think you might like it. Then we can head back.” 

Vanitas watched them with disbelief, hands stuff into the front pocket of their hoodie. They clenched their jaw. 

“I promise,” Ventus repeated. He held out his hand again, but it wavered. 

Vanitas shook their head, hands remaining hidden. But quietly, they huffed. “Just lead the way. You light me up when we get there.” 

“Deal,” Ventus said, and then turned around, flashlight still on. He lit the path in front of them, and then walked slowly ahead, checking every couple seconds to see if Vanitas was following. They were. 

It was not much longer until the alleyway opened up again into a parking lot, lit up only with a singular fluorescent light attached to some unknown building. Ventus stopped in the middle of it to turn off his flashlight, and then looked around. His eyes locked on something out of Vanitas’s view, and then he turned towards them excitedly. “We’re here!” He announced. 

Vanitas stopped and folded their arms across their chest, twitching with frustration. “I’ve been to a million parking lots.” They looked around. “A lot better ones, at that.” They couldn’t believe they had let themselves be tricked by such nice eyes and soft hands into a stupid worn-out parking lot, aged by cars and footsteps and all sorts of things that meant nothing to Vanitas. Aged by just so much noise and bustling bullshit.

Ventus laughed, and it landed on Vanitas’s chest like a hummingbird. “You ever been up one of those?” He jabbed behind him with his thumb, lips pulling themselves into a smile. 

Behind the blonde, a large, dusty water tower loomed above them, its metal legs sturdy and sprawling beneath its impressive tank. It was huge, and Vanitas couldn’t take their eyes off of it. _ No _ , they wanted to say, _ I haven’t _.

Ventus took their stunned silence as an answer and then grabbed their arm, pulling them unexpectedly towards the tower. Vanitas once again let their hand wander, finding Ventus’s for a moment of clarity. Before they knew it, they were at the bottom of a ladder, its rungs rusted and thin. 

“Is it safe?” Vanitas asked, gaze following the ladder all the way up. 

“Probably,” Ventus said, shrugging. He looked at Vanitas and frowned. “Are you nervous? Do you want to light up now?” 

Vanitas nearly drooled at the thought of a cigarette. They could practically hear the ringing in their body now, the one that called for the rush, that begged for the tar. But they shook their head, somehow, and grabbed the ladder. “No. Let’s go up.” 

With that, Vanitas hoisted themselves up to the rungs, climbing with labored breaths, almost closing their eyes so they wouldn’t have to look down. The further they rose, the harder the wind whipped around them and played with their hoodie and dark hair. They huffed in frustration, pulling a few dark strands of their bangs from their mouth and then looking up. They took a breath to steady their racing heart. It was so close now, a small platform that wrapped itself around the tank. It was waiting for them, quiet and lonely and so far from the ground below. Vanitas suddenly grew hyper-aware of the metal rattling beneath their hands, whimpering in response. They could feel every movement Ventus made behind them like he was banging within their ribcage. They froze. 

“You alright? You’re almost there!” Ventus called, voice sounding further than it should have been. Vanitas risked a glance over their shoulder and felt a surprising sense of relief wash over them when they saw a pair of blue eyes, watching them with a gentleness Vanitas could only remember as a child. Ventus waved encouragingly and then tapped Vanitas’s ankle tenderly. 

The touch felt electric. Vanitas’s ankle jerked and their foot continued up the rungs. Moving body before brain, Vanitas kept going up, barely recognizing their movements as their own. Tonight was weird. Everything was weird. 

Suddenly, they were hoisting themselves up onto a platform, standing up and steadying themselves against the tank. The whole tower seemed to shake beneath their weight, but Vanitas felt safe. Maybe it was the protective rail around them. Maybe it was the cool breeze. But they felt safe. They felt _ strange _. They watched as Ventus caught up quickly, the blonde grunting as they pulled themselves onto the platform. He stood up, nose to nose with Vanitas. 

Ventus yelped, and then giggled, leaning back gently against the bar behind him. “Oh.” 

Vanitas looked away sheepishly. “Oh.” 

Ventus shuffled away without further prodding, moving to stand beside Vanitas. His shoulder brushed against Vanitas’s arm. “So we made it,” he said, quietly. Everything seemed quiet up there. “Isn’t it nice?”

Vanitas finally took a moment to look around. Their eyes fell onto rooftops near and far, on to the parking lot beneath them, on to a small playset in someone’s backyard, on to a single swing that floated in the wind. It _ was _ nice. It was so separated from the ground and its worries and wants and weeds. Vanitas looked up. So much closer to the stars, however. 

Vanitas had never really been one for stargazing, that was something they left to Sora, who was the kind of person who gazed at everything. Vanitas never had time for nonsensical musing beneath a starry blanket. Vanitas never wondered what was up there or what was beyond the sky, so concerned with where their feet were planted. Sora’s head was far enough in the clouds for both of them. And yet, right now, despite themselves, Vanitas was watching the sky and its stars and planets. They let out a long, long sigh. “I suppose it is nice.” 

Ventus grinned, settling down. He perched on the edge of the platform and dangled his legs off its side, eyeing the small patch of suburbia like he owned it. “Sit with me,” he said.

Vanitas did. The two sat together for the second time that night, pinkies so close they whispered to each other. “Could you light me up now?” Vanitas asked.

Ventus nodded, searching for his lighter and then laughing. “I think you’ve got the lighter, actually.” 

“Oh,” Vanitas almost laughed. “Right.” They lit another cigarette with swift and familiar ease. 

“And to think you could have just run off with it,” Ventus said. “Instead of letting me drag you on this stupid little adventure.” He laughed but it sounded flat. He watched the end of Vanitas’s cigarette burn orange in the night. 

Vanitas humphed, a small amount of smoke spewing from parted lips. “Where’d you even find this place?”

“My brother found it,” Ventus started. “He had apparently wound up here one time with some friends and brought me when I was having a really bad night a few weeks ago. We shared a whole gallon of sea-salt ice cream…” There was a fondness in his voice and a loving glaze over his eyes. “We just ate ice cream until we were dizzy. It was stupid. But nice.” He paused, letting the memory linger. “And now I just try to come here whenever, really. Roxas—oh, that’s my brother—he doesn’t come as often anymore.”

“A brother, huh.” 

“A _ twin _,” Ventus clarified, turning to meet Vanitas’s wide gaze. Vanitas sputtered on their cigarette. 

“You too?”

Ventus nodded. “Identical. Super identical. I barely recognized us as different people as a kid. It was like walking around with a mirror.” 

Vanitas laughed, finally. It was a long-awaited release. “That close?” 

Ventus looked embarrassed. “Yeah. I mean, at least you and Sora have like, different defining features and stuff… Roxas and I…”

Vanitas waved their hand and shook their head. “Fuck that noise, alright? You’re Ventus. Forget him for a second.” Ventus turned to look at them, eyes wide. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ventus laughed. “It’s just, _ you’re _ nothing like _ Sora _.” 

Vanitas tensed. They had heard those words a million times. From their parents, after they’d been caught sneaking in through a window one cold middle school night. From their teachers, who always frowned down at them and asked for the homework for the twentieth time that week. From friends, who watched Sora light up every room he entered and leave it feeling dark, and then turned to Vanitas and scrunched up their noises: _ You’re nothing like Sora. _ Like it was bad. Like they were disappointed. 

Vanitas snarled. “And? What about it?”

Ventus’s hand landed gently on top of Vanitas’s, and he leaned forward, eyes shining. “I like it.”

Vanitas flipped over their hand over to intertwine their fingers with Ventus’s, face warm. The cigarette dropped from their lips, and they watched in despair as it fell slowly from the water tower until it somewhere in the abyss below. “Shit,” they murmured.

“Look at me?” Ventus asked, reaching a nervous hand forward. Vanitas looked up, eyes watching as Ventus’s palm moved to rest on their cheek. Subconsciously, Vanitas nuzzled into its warmth, sighing with comfort. They had surprised themselves. Vanitas wanted to blame the exhaustion and the inevitable romance of a cool, starry evening. But they couldn’t. Everything came back to Ventus; blonde-haired, blue-eyed, soft-smiled Ventus. Ventus, with the light, with the warm hands and laugh. 

_ This is ridiculous _, Vanitas thought, but only for a moment. They had engaged in their fair share of hookups; one-night stands without even getting the other person’s name. They knew how to kiss and fuck and never tell and slink out of stranger’s bedrooms oh-so-quietly. But this was different for them. It was overwhelming. Ventus was stroking their cheek gently with their thumb, slowly unraveling each and every last bit of Vanitas that he could. 

Vanitas nearly pulled away, blinking away a hazy glaze of worry. 

“Your face,” Ventus started, swallowing hard. “It’s soft.” His mouth wavered open like it had more to lose, but nothing came out. 

Vanitas hummed and dared to touch Ventus’s face, index finger brushing from the tip of his chin and tracing his soft jawline, circling his ear, like a small dance. Ventus laughed breathlessly. The pad of Vanitas’s finger was numb with unexpected joy and continued to pursue the rest of Ventus’s face. It gracefully slid over a spray of freckles and jumped the bridge of his nose, before circling back down beneath his chin. They lifted Ventus’s face.

“Hi, Ventus,” they murmured. 

“I told you to just call me Ven,” Ventus replied. His thumb prodded Vanitas’s cheek jokingly. “That’s what everyone else does.” 

  
Vanitas’s eyes lit up for a moment and a small grin tugged on their lips. “Well, then I for sure don’t want to call you that.” They moved their hand back and let Ventus’s chin fall slightly, before reaching up behind his head and entangling their fingers in his hair. It was as soft as it looked, and wedged its way between Vanitas’s fingers like some determined winter weeds. They pulled Ventus in, foreheads clashing tenderly.

Ventus gulped. His eyes glittered. “I want to kiss you,” he said it like it was a secret. 

Vanitas wanted to be surprised. They wanted to be disgusted. They wanted to groan and roll their eyes and push the blonde backward and scoff with their noise in the air. But they couldn’t. It felt right, at least in the moment, and in the few moments before and after. Vanitas felt like they were floating somewhere deep and deserted in a dark painting, high and dry from the rest of the world. They could kiss Ventus if they wanted to.

And they _ did _ want to, glancing at him through their light and dark mishmash of long, unruly bangs. They parted their lips, throat dry. “I…” They croaked. They faltered. “I need a cig.” They let go of Ventus startlingly, cowering into themselves and looking away. The blonde’s hand tensed for a moment before relaxed and fell lazily into his lap. He sighed. 

Vanitas scrambled for their cigarette carton of cigarettes, teeth clenching as they pulled out the last one. “I—I’m sorry, I just…” 

“Don’t worry. I get it. It calms your nerves.” His words were as friendly as they always were, even in the face of rejection. “It’s okay.” His face wavered but remained hopeful.

Vanitas just nodded in response, slick and sweaty fingers nervously fumbling with the spark wheel. It just wouldn’t catch. The flame wouldn’t last long enough. They cupped their hand around the light, cursing the wind silently. It was embarrassing, struggling to light their worst vice up in the eyes of their newest virtue. They felt tears sting in their eyes and groaned in frustration. “Fuck! Fuck… God, it won’t fucking…” They tried once more. “Light, goddamnit!” 

Ventus reached up and pulled their hand from their face, and grabbed the lighter with his other. “Here. Let me.” He wiped the sweat from the lighter on his sweater and held it up expectantly, tilting his head at Vanitas. “Will you let me?” 

Vanitas watched him sadly and then nodded, leaning forward with the cigarette snug between their teeth. They waited. 

“Thank you,” Ventus said, moving closer. The wind seemed to stop at his will. He held one hand up to cup the cigarette and flicked on the lighter with his other. The flame shook in the night. He moved it towards to end of the cigarette and held it there steadily, eyes gazing deep into its light and then into Vanitas’s eyes. Vanitas went to take a breath, but the flame went out. Darkness showered their faces again. “Oh. Let’s try that again.” 

And they did. Ventus lit the flame once more. “You know,” he said quietly, letting it burn the cigarette. “When I saw you tonight, I just thought you looked so lonely.” 

Vanitas sucked in deeply, hearing the cigarette crackle and burn and feeling it in the back of their throat. They closed their eyes, letting Ventus’s voice flood over them like a rush of nicotine. 

“I didn’t realize I was lonely, too,” Ventus said, dropping their hand. They placed the lighter tight in Vanitas’s palm. “This is yours now.” 

Vanitas let their brain stop fizzing before blinking at Ventus. “What? No, I don’t take people’s lighters.” 

“I don’t use it,” Ventus replied simply. “I just always have it in case somebody else needs it.” 

Vanitas looked at them, drawing another deep breath. They turned away shyly and blew a gray, ghostly cloud into the night sky. “Thanks, but I don’t need your charity.” 

“It’s not _ charity _ ,” Ventus said. “None of this is charity, Vanitas.” He sounded frustrated like he’d reached the end of a rope he didn’t know he was climbing. He paused. “I’m sorry. This is dumb. This whole thing… I just wanted to say _ hi _ at the stupid party… This is just selfish. I’m sorry. You can go if you wa—” 

“_ Ventus _,” Vanitas pulled the wasting cigarette from their lips and twisted it out against the platform. “What calms your nerves?”

“What?” 

“You’re nervous, too,” Vanitas said. “The cigarettes calm mine. What about you?” 

Ventus played with his thumbs, looking down, face red. “I… I dunno.”

“Bull,” Vanitas said, eyeing the lighter in their hand before slipping it into their pocket. “What is it?” 

Ventus wrapped his arms around himself. “Warm things,” he started slowly, “I like being warm. In baths, under blankets… warm drinks,” his voice became fuller at just the thought. He laughed to himself. “But I guess that’s sort of useless right now,” he said bitterly. 

Vanitas raised their eyebrows. “Not exactly.” They moved closer to Ventus, pressing their thigh against his. “I…” They looked down at him. “I want to calm your nerves, too.” It was remarkable, really, the amount of confidence a single cigarette instilled in them. They felt fresh, still buzzing and burnt inside. They had taken their break, they had taken their medicine, they were ready to try again. 

Vanitas scooped Ventus’s hand into theirs before he could argue, and held it against their chest. Ventus touched it gently before leaning closer to them, his other hand reaching out expectantly. Vanitas grabbed it and in one motion, pulled Ventus into them, resting their chin on top of his head and sighing. Their arms wrapped around him, hands sliding down his shoulder blades and resting warmly on the small of his back. They held Ventus so close to them they couldn’t tell where the other began and ended. “Are you warm?” They asked quietly. 

“Very,” Ventus replied, voice muffled beneath the cuddle. Vanitas could hear their smile through it all, but they longed to see it. Keeping their selfish desires at bay, they kept Ventus close until they could feel his heart slow and relax. They were warm, too, really, despite the brisk evening. Ventus was certainly on to something; warmth was seemingly synonymous with clarity. Vanitas drew shapes along his back, whistling quietly. 

Finally, Ventus pulled away from their chest. “Thank you,” he whispered carefully. Anything louder and it would all shatter. 

Vanitas pushed a lock of blonde hair from his face. “Are you still nervous?” 

“I don’t think so,” Ventus said, leaning into Vanitas’s touch. “Are you?” 

“Of course I am,” Vanitas said, a chuckle rumbling deep in the back of their throat. “Just not so much.” They cupped Ventus’s face and offered a smile, seemingly the first one in so long. It tore across their face like a long rift in the earth and shook the space between them accordingly. Not even the night could hide their fresh smile. Their teeth peered out into the darkness bravely for a moment, before their lips curtained over them once more. They breathed heavily, and then tugged Ventus forward, lips meeting his in one quiet motion.

Ventus murmured in surprise and then acceptance, settling into the kiss and tightening his grip around Vanitas. They stayed still for a moment before Ventus tilted his head backward and parted his lips, silently asking for something more. Vanitas bit down softly and then dragged their tongue over his lower lip, shivering as Ventus moaned somewhere deep in the back of his throat. 

Vanitas pulled away for a moment, eyes hooded and dizzy, and then tugged gently at Ventus’s hair. They pulled the blonde in close, letting out a sharp puff of air as he kissed Vanitas’s neck. Vanitas sat there, holding him quietly as Ventus worked up and down their neck and collarbone with his lips. It almost tickled.

Vanitas stared ahead, letting their gaze blur lazily in the moonlight. They had kissed lots of boys before—and lots of girls, too—and kissed all over their bodies and slept in their beds and stared at the posters on their walls. But none of it had ever felt like it did now. Ventus’s kisses were ice-cold lemonade on a summer day and new bandages on open blisters, the kind of clean and cool loving one only learned from losing.

“Ventus,” Vanitas said, not entirely sure why. They just whispered it into the night sky, like a spell or a wish. 

Ventus paused his kisses, warm breath still hovering beneath Vanitas’s chin. “Vanitas?” When no reply came, the blonde laughed softly and then kissed their cheek. They moved back and grabbed Vanitas’s face with one hand, smooshing their cheeks together teasingly.

Vanitas watched him before pulling their face away, leaning forward and resting their chin on Ventus’s shoulder. They pushed their cheek against his warm neck, swaddled in black cloth. “What are we doing?” They asked meekly. 

“I was just lighting you up,” Ventus whispered into Vanitas’s hair. It was dark and damp with anxious and tired sweats. “Like you asked.”

“This isn’t like me,” Vanitas said. 

“What?” Ventus kissed the side of their head. “Kissing strangers?” He snaked his arm between their bodies and grasped Vanitas’s hand, squeezing it and then kissing their knuckles. “Or liking it?"

Vanitas’s knuckles felt icy one moment and then burned the next. They pulled away from Ventus and watched as he continued kissing the back of their hand, eyes not leaving their face. They stared at each other like it was a challenge to be won, with a prize undecided. Ventus reached for Vanitas’s other hand, and soon, he was holding both, each one held softly but secure, like a vase of flowers or an expensive silk scarf. 

Vanitas tried to fathom having their hands full of other hands, of another person. They distracted themselves by studying every straight line and delicate curve on Ventus’s face, the ones that sculpted his jaw and carved his nose; shaped his lips and curled his ears. He was exquisite, really. One of a kind.

Vanitas nearly scoffed. _ And yet, an identical twin _. They pursed their lips. How ludicrous it seemed that anything that incredible is made again. “You’re special,” Vanitas found themselves talking before they could think. 

Ventus smiled softly. “Why are you saying that?” 

“Why can’t I?” Vanitas grumbled. Their heart murmured impatiently. It longed for another kiss, but Vanitas kept themselves at bay, tilting their head and memorizing Ventus’s smile. It tasted sweet from afar. 

Ventus just shrugged and looked down shyly at the hands in his own. He dragged his thumb over Vanitas’s knuckles, back and forth, back and forth, until he stopped. “You’re silly, Vanitas.” 

Vanitas’s face crinkled with confusion. “I’m not.” 

“You _ are _,” Ventus said. “Underneath it all, I mean.” He looked at Vanitas, long black hair framing their cheeks and tumbling messily over their forehead. He watched their tired eyes, dimly by the moon and something else he couldn’t quite place. Their shoulders were drawn in close, still defensive despite their intimacy. With every deep, nervous breath they took their chewed and frayed hoodie strings dangled limply beneath their chest. They were a statue of loneliness, but so far from hopeless. 

Vanitas tsked and shook their head, feeling their skin heat up beneath Ventus’s steady gaze. It was a comforting gaze, familiar and seemingly blessed. “I’m just me,” Vanitas said lamely, not caring enough to break down his claim. If Ventus really thought they were _ silly _, then they were silly. 

“Yeah,” Ventus said, kissing their nose quickly. “Isn’t that lovely?” 

Vanitas blushed a deep, unforgiving red, mouth agape as they eyed Ventus. _ Was it lovely? To be them? _ Vanitas thought they could count the things they liked about themself on one hand, perhaps even less. But they knew that it was them who was sitting high above the world with a boy kinder than candy was on the tongue, softer than rose petals on a palm. It was Vanitas who was feeling their stomach and chest tumble with nerves and excitement, sitting beneath an open, starry sky seemingly bound by nothing and no one. They let themselves smile. “I guess so.” 

They kissed again, the two of them equally out of words. Vanitas felt their skin burning beneath their clothes and their heart press uncomfortably hard against their chest. They pulled away, and Vanitas pulled their legs back onto the platform and leaned against the tank of the tower. Wordlessly, they drew Ventus toward them, and the blonde hummed and settled in between Vanitas’s thighs, leaning onto their chest and shutting his eyes. He sighed, and only his feet dangled off the edge of the platform. The two laid together and until their breaths became inseparable. 

“What if we stayed up here forever?” Ventus mused, eyes still closed peacefully. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Vanitas said, voice tired. 

“But what if we did?” Ventus continued. He opened his eyes to look up at Vanitas longingly. 

“Well.” Vanitas couldn’t really bear that look, not when it wanted them so badly. They slowly glided their knuckles across his smooth cheekbones and grinned. “I suppose we’d die real quick.” 

Ventus scoffed and then lifted his chin, letting Vanitas’s hand fall across his neck and back up his cheek. “And then what?” His voice was tinged with sleepiness, rising and falling with a small yawn. 

  
Vanitas felt the world shift around them. They knew it must’ve been just a silly, unguarded question to slip from the blonde’s lips, but it still rattled their bones. _ And then what? _Vanitas let the words slosh through their brain lazily before they sighed loudly between their teeth. “Who cares?” They muttered, frustrated by their inability to answer him. Vanitas had been right those few hours ago. He did ask a lot of questions.

Ventus shifted between Vanitas’s legs, pressing harder against their chest, scrambling for a warmth Vanitas wasn’t sure they had to offer. But somehow, Ventus looked content, his face still in its thin smile and redness. “You’re right,” he whispered. He pressed a firm kiss to Vanitas’s heart and then to their collarbone. “Thank you, Vanitas.” 

“Huh?” Vanitas hummed. “For what?” 

“You’ve made tonight so different,” Ventus whispered. “It doesn’t feel like it always does.” 

“Like… it always does?” Vanitas said slowly. 

“Yeah,” Ventus kissed their cheek. “It’s always so … cold.” 

Vanitas couldn’t help but bubble inside. They had never considered themselves anything more than a black hole, in perfect opposition to Sora’s never-setting sunshine. No matter how scary, there was always something nice in being something new. They kissed the top of Ventus’s head and stroked his cheek. 

  
“Thank you, too, Ventus,” Vanitas said, their lips moving once again before they could stop. They couldn’t fight it, any of it; the rush of another body against theirs, the way Ventus’s skin burned their finger pads, the way his hair tickled their palm lovingly—all of it rendered every defense mechanism Vanitas had useless. Ventus was beautiful and kind in the most horrifying and debilitating way. And it made their mouth water and heart ache. “I, well…” 

“You’re welcome,” Ventus cut them off, then leaned up and kissed the dark-haired stranger with unbridled passion. He pushed them against the tower’s tank walls, keeping their body tight and warm between his own and the cool, hard metal. Vanitas groaned in submission, sinking into the kiss and resting their hands on Ventus’s rippling lower back. The two spoke silently with their kisses, rotating between hurried and rough and slow and soft, until Vanitas finally pushed the blonde back gently, a thin line of spit connecting their raw lips. 

They stared at each other, heaving and wordlessly begging. “I wish…” Vanitas started, never quite sure where their words were leading them anymore. Staring into Ventus’s eyes was daunting and enchanting, so lonely and warm. “I knew you.” 

“I’m Ventus,” the boy replied incredulously.

“I—I _ know _ ,” Vanitas sputtered. “I wish I knew you… enough to feel okay that I feel…” _ Happy? Was that what it was? _That feeling that had grown from their feet and wrapped around their stomach and squeezed their heart, the feeling that had smogged their brain and blurred their vision. Vanitas’s experiences with joy were few and far between, but they never remembered them feeling so frightening. They felt like they were on the edge of something new, and now, peering over the edge, they were shaking.

Ventus cupped Vanitas’s face and touched his gently against theirs. “You can feel whatever you want, Vanitas,” he said it so simply, as if he wasn’t shaking, too. Vanitas could feel the tremble in his fingers, and yet, the blonde remained cool and collected. “You don’t need reasons to feel things. You’re allowed to just… feel. Everything.” 

Suddenly, the wind around them picked up, seemingly howling in pain. Vanitas bit their bottom lip nervously, watching as Ventus’s hair blew around his face uncontrollably. Pieces billowed in front of his eyes, his bangs shielding and shadowing face, which had become crestfallen in the night. “You can feel _ anything _,” he added, shouting above the wind. 

Vanitas yelped, an anguished and strangled cry escaping their throat. Tears poured from their wide, golden eyes and soaked into Ventus’s reassuring hands, which had begun to desperately wipe them away. But it was no use, they were falling without permission, and thus without apprehension. Their hands clawed desperately for something—anything—finding Ventus’s sweater and knotting it between their fists, sobbing wretchedly. They were feeling _ everything _. 

“_ Ventus _,” they gasped, slamming their head deep into the crook of his neck. “Fuck, I… I’m so sorry, I…” 

Ventus hugged them close, suffocating their cries into their body, absorbing all that he could handle until he found himself blinking away tears, too. His lip quivered and he drew small, demure shapes on the back of Vanitas’s trembling neck. “It’s alright,” he mumbled. 

“What’s going _ on _ ?” Vanitas demanded, voice muffled and broken. “I feel like I’m exploding.” Their words seemed lackluster. It was so much more than that. They _ were _ exploding and then rebuilding, and exploding again. Inside them, the loose strings that kept them in one piece were slowly unraveling and somehow tangling at the exit. It was inescapable, everything they felt. They felt it completely—somehow, it was like they had always wanted, but nothing like they imagined. 

“Then explode,” Ventus said calmly. He felt Vanitas’s shoulders heave and buckle and then stop, the only movement the scrunching of their leaky nose. Vanitas had become still in tandem with the world, and the wind began to widdle down to a quiet breeze. Everything had returned to where it belonged, maybe slightly to the left. Vanitas, for the moment, fell directly into place. 

Their tears had become sticky and hot on their cheeks. They leaned back, letting Ventus rub at them with his sweater paws, head tilted and nodding in a motion of silent, patient support. Vanitas sat there lamely, arms and hands weakly in front of themselves, sat upon their knees with their eyes rolled up to the sky. The stars began to become clear once again as the last of their tears fizzled away. They seemed to tell a kind secret, and Vanitas furrowed their brows in confusion, looking back down at Ventus. 

  
“There,” Ventus said, leaning back. He rolled up his sleeves and ran his bare fingers across Vanitas’s wet cheeks one final time. “All dry.” 

“All dry,” Vanitas repeated, slowly regaining a sense of self. The night came back to them in untrustworthy pieces. The party. The chaos of it all falling apart, and the calm of everything settling beside Ventus’s side. Sharing a curbside, sharing a walk, sharing a kiss. They grinned loopily at the blonde. “Ventus.” 

“Vanitas,” Ventus replied, laughing at the look on the other’s face. It was dopey, and he’d call it lovestruck if he didn’t know any better. 

Vanitas stumbled up to their feet, thick combat boots clattering the metal frame beneath them. They stretched their body from their toes to their fingertips and then reached down for Ventus, tugging him up with ease and slinking their arms around his waist. As one exhausted unit, the two moved close to the platform’s edge, pushing against the single, creaking railing that kept them safely above the ground below. 

“God, Vanitas,” Ventus chuckled. “You really are so warm.” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Vanitas croaked. “No one’s ever told me.” They rested their chin on the blonde’s head, eyeing the town around them. “You know. I’m having second thoughts.” 

“About?” Ventus’s hand snaked up to stroke their face. 

“About staying up here forever, like you said.” Vanitas blew their bangs from their face and listened as a car horn blared somewhere in the distance. “Maybe we just should.” 

Ventus hummed and laughed, chest rumbling beneath Vanitas’s protective hold. “You wouldn’t last a second.” 

“Why’s that? I’ve lasted this long.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t need a cigarette right now,” Ventus joked. The air between them was somehow clearer and lighter than it had been ever before. Vanitas liked how they didn’t need to talk about it all. Vanitas liked feeling his touch and knowing forgiveness, knowing they were understood. They liked knowing they were okay before they had the chance to ask. 

Vanitas licked their lips, tasting remnants of tobacco and Ventus and salty tears. But they only craved one. They kissed Ventus’s fingertips one by one, and then let his hand fall back to their cheek. “No,” they said, “I don’t.” 

Ventus made a small sound of surprise before humming contently. “Well, when you do,” he mumbled, “we can go back down.” 

Their eyes both fell to the rooftops and streets and lives beneath them. Everything was still, as it should be so late into the night, and there was comfort in its quiet like a crackling fire. And yet, nothing felt safer than the metal frame that wobbled beneath them. Nothing felt safer than the pair of arms that wrapped tight around Ventus, and the tender pressure that pushed against Vanitas’s chest. 

“I won’t need one,” Vanitas assured, not quite sure who they were talking to. They sighed. 

Ventus turned in their arms, back against the railing and nose nuzzling into Vanitas’s neck. “It’s okay if you do.” 

Vanitas tightened their grip on Ventus’s lower back, suddenly filled with fear that the blonde might slip between their fingers and fall. “It is?” 

“Of course, Vanitas,” Ventus smiled. “It’s okay to need things.”

For a moment, guilt chewed at Vanitas’s heart, until it bloomed into a craving that buzzed at their lips. Their mouth began to salivate and their heart lurched. They felt their throat burn and beg, and Vanitas felt weak to their body’s wishes. They smiled. “I need a cig,” they breathed out, finally, swooping down low to pull the blonde into a kiss. 

  
Their sweaty hands began to dry, their throat began to frost, and their heart slowed to a gentle, honest pace. It calmed their nerves like it always did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave feedback if you hated it, and if you liked it, please kudos! Also: comments feed me and my family! Thanks so much!


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